


Mamello

by CaitClandestine



Category: Caspar Lee - Fandom, Joe Sugg - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M, the floor thing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 06:15:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14158590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaitClandestine/pseuds/CaitClandestine
Summary: Caspar has a rough night and goes home to Joe.





	Mamello

He doesn't realise that he's pushing at the edge of manic until it's too late - caught up in the rush of the party, bright lights and louder music that throws him into motion, brain thinking of a million things and trying to say and do all of them, drag anyone he can along for the ride. He's not drunk, only a few drinks in but everything is starting to blur together, the sudden ache in his chest matching the bass line of each and every song. 

"Mate" Josh says loudly, cheeks red and nearly empty beer glass in hand and Caspar jumps at the weight of his friends sweaty arm around his shoulders. "I think we should call it a night"

Josh never calls it a night unless he's got a girl or a problem and it's been a slow night for both of them, probably what they get for hitting up a Tuesday night house party in the eastern suburbs so the other man has definitely noticed that he's a little off. For all the shit he gives Josh he's actually the best kind of person, caring but not overly invested.

"We should stay" Caspar counters, shrugging himself out of Josh's grasp. He should start dancing, short out the relentless jittering of his feet. He doesn't go anywhere, just hops from foot to foot as Josh pulls his phone from his pocket.

"I'm getting us a ride, do you want to go home or come with me?"

As much energy as he has Caspar doesn't put up a fight as Josh downs the last of his beer and slides his glass onto an empty table before grabbing hold of his jacket and tugging him along through the house, down the stairs and past the now raucous cheering for an intense air guitar battle that Caspar could totally win if he could just remember the name of his grandmothers dog, knows how important it is that he tell Josh.

He can't remember even though he can see the dog in his mind, small and orange and how she always waited for him to be done with his cereal because he'd sneak her the leftover milk. She's important and Josh should know. 

They're outside and he still doesn't know, Josh letting go of him and leaning against the front fence.

"The red mailbox" Josh says, answering a thought that Caspar hadn't even got to yet, "You can go that far"

Pacing helps, the mailbox two houses down and it's just far enough that he get a quick walk going, crisp air biting at his throat and he still can't remember the name of the fucking dog but maybe it started with an m, Mitzy, Missy, Mary?

He skitters to a stop in front of Josh a few laps later, somehow cold and sweaty at the same time.

"Josh Josh, Josh" He says quickly, "Josh I need to know"

He does another lap before he can get the words out.

"Josh, what's my grandmas dogs name, you know, Mitzy, Missy, Mary?"

"The terrier thing that used to chase me over the back fence?"

The memory is suddenly clear as day, little orange dog nipping at Josh's heels every time he tried to sneak over but still he can't remember.

"Yes!" He's desperate now, even the cab pulls alongside them it's all he can focus on.

"Mamello" Josh says easily, "Her name was Mamello"

Josh nudges him into the back-seat and he winds the window down, sticks his face out as far as his seatbelt will let him, mamellomamello.

He jumps when Josh taps his shoulder he doesn't know how long later, the passing streets unblurring enough that he vaguely recognises them.

"Home to Joe or home with me?"

Joe. He should tell Joe about Mamello, Joe doesn't know like Josh does. 

"I want to go home to Joe"

His face is freezing by the time the cab comes to a stop outside his and Joe's apartment block and Caspar can't find his keys in jeans or his jacket or his wallet and Joe will be mad if they have to call him and mad Joe is bad, mad Joe won't want to know about Mamello.

"Here" Josh unclips his own spare key from it's ring, "My new years resolution was to stop feeling you up for your fucking keys"

Even without the music Caspar can hear his heart echoing in the lift, thumpthumpthump. He counts the floors as they go up and all the apartment doors before his own all the way at the other end of the hall and then there's Joe, door open and leaning halfway out.

"Mamello!" He yells, "Mamello Joe!"

"Ssssh!" 

"Sorry" Caspar tries to be more quiet as Joe steps back and pulls the door back to let him in. He manages to make it to the kitchen before he starts shedding his clothes, the chills from before turned into a line of a sweat across his forehead, feet sticky on the floor as he peels his damp socks off.

A bottle of water appears in front of him, Joe's hand attached and it's cold, condensation dripping off the plastic and Caspar wasn't thirsty until he saw it, screws and unscrews the lid enough times that Joe pries it from his wet fingers and tosses it in the bin. It takes more effort than it should for him not to chase after it.

"Mamello" He says between gulps, "Joe"

Joe's picking up his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack they bought specifically because he's terrible at taking things back to his room. He's in his pyjamas, oversized shirt and trackpants and the rest of the flat is dark which means Joe had to get up for him, that Josh texted him and of course he feels guilty to be interrupting the precious little sleep the other man already struggles to get.

He can't help but kick the counter, stubbing his toe against the laminex.

"If you dent that it's coming out of your half of the deposit" Joe interrupts, "C'mon, tell me about Mamello"

"Mamello you don't care" 

It's true. Joe has no reason to care about Mamello but Caspar's brain is still stuck there, watching her chase Josh up and over the old wooden fence.

"She's a dog" He blurts out quick enough that Joe doesn't have time to answer and he remembers now, the yippy little bark she'd do, never a single one but in frenzied groups and it happens before he can even begin to process how to stop it. 

He barks at Joe like his memory demands and everything is all wrong, the kitchen too white and too bright and he's going to be sick, throw up against the too white too bright tiles. He doesn't look up as he scrambles back, spinning around to head to his room, maybe hide under his bed and never come out, can't imagine what Joe must think because he doesn't do this any more and he sure as hell doesn't want to talk about it.

Joe's arms catch around his waist before he gets halfway and Caspar stumbles, feels Joe pull him right again.

"Caspar" Joe's voice is to soft, too concerned.

"I'm so sorry" Joe shouldn't have to deal with this, with him. It's been so, so fucking long since he's slipped, been blind-sided enough that he didn't even get a chance to try to redirect his brain and of course it's front of Joe. He should've gone home with Josh.

If anything, Joe's careful grip on him tightens and they're chest to chest.

"Look at me" Joe instructs and it's just another thing Caspar doesn't have control of right now, finds his head promptly dropping to meet worried blue eyes. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about, not one thing"

Joe's far too good to him. 

"I had to tell you" Caspar says quietly, mouth bone dry despite the water only moments earlier, "I told Josh but I had to tell you too it just wouldn't go away"

It still hasn't, a low hum in the back of mind quieted by his unwavering focus on digging his hands into his thighs, bruising pressure against the fabric of his jeans. 

Joe's hands close over his. "You can tell me if you need to" He offers, "Do you want to go on the floor?"

"Please"

The floor thing is a super weird but mostly effective way of getting him to settle down that he and Joe had discovered entirely on accident by virtue of Caspar maybe letting Joe win one of their wrestles, the smaller man victoriously pinning him down against the carpet. 

"Let me get some pillows, you know my old bones can't take it"

Caspar likes the way his not-so-old bones dig into the hard floor, how cool it is against his clammy skin. The space near his office is the perfect spot for him to spread out as Joe returns with two pillows and a duvet, flipping off the light and leaving them with just the skylight creating a dim glow above them.

Joe settles across his chest easily, one pillow for his head to rest on and the other tucked under his knees, duvet to the side for later. He's brought his phone too, setting it next to them and only when he wiggles one last time and his weight rests still against Caspar's chest can he finally unclench his hands, places one flat against the cool floor and lets the other curl around the back of Joe's leg, grabs a handful of trackpant.

His chest is heaving, moving Joe with every breath and the weight is everything, pressing counterpoint to the beat of his heart. The hum is still there keeping a constant pace of mamellomamellomamello but it's not so urgent, the weight drowning it out. It's one of the few times he craves silence, needs to concentrate to gather himself up. 

Joe makes it easy, breath steady even though Caspar knows he must be worried and it's easy to work on getting is own rushed ones to match.

"Mamello" He murmurs, "Mamellojojo"


End file.
